Between Time and Space
by AnaEvelyn
Summary: Post Embraceable You--Can the Great Depression help Jordan and Woody repare the damage they have done to each other?
1. Beacon Hill Aristocrat

**Between Time and Space**

**Disclaimer: I didn't own Crossing Jordan when I wrote my other stories, and that hasn't changed any. The Dark Lord Tim Kring has not seen fit to give it to me or anyone else.**

**Secondary Disclaimer: By popular vote, this story will have much to do with the Great Depression. That being said, most of what I know about it comes from the American Girl Move **_**Kitt Kitteridge**_** and the musical **_**Annie**_**. I don't own those either, but the point is that I may not be completely accurate in everything, but I will try valiantly to get it right.**

**Timeline: This takes place after "Embraceable You" when Jordan doesn't accept Woody's friendship ring/birthday present…and goes into my world from there. So assume that after the end of this story, Woody does not get shot, JD and Lu don't show up, etc.**

**Enjoy! (And review!)**

Chapter One: Beacon Hill Aristocrat

Jordan sighed as she pulled into the driveway of her next pick-up. It had been two very long weeks. Since her disastrous birthday, her life had crumbled…mostly because of Woody. She had tired to talk to him about it, but the more she tried, the angrier he got. Now, he was no longer talking to her unless it was absolutely necessary. Part of Jordan found his behavior childish, but the other half knew that he just didn't want to set himself up for more trouble.

If she could, Jordan would rewind time and take the ring. She knew that she loved Woody…she just couldn't get herself to act on it. When she thought about how it would change their relationship, cold fear would grip her. She didn't want to lose Woody, which could easily happen if they became a couple.

Of course, shutting him down every time he tried to take things further wasn't helping either. In the past two weeks, Jordan realized that her fear of commitment and losing Woody had probably caused her to actually lose him.

So, Jordan did what she normally did when faced with a crisis—threw her self into work. Only that wasn't as effective as it normally was. Woody was everywhere…if not physically present as his job demanded he be, then in her memories which permeated the office, the precinct, and even her apartment.

It didn't really matter that he was avoiding her like the plague. Just remembering him brought back the tide of emotions Jordan was fighting against.

Sighing again, Jordan picked up her bag and walked inside. She paused just long enough to admire the spacious entryway in the gargantuan house before she made her way into what appeared to be the study. Reclining in a chair was a very old, very dead man.

And standing next to him was Woody. Jordan almost groaned. She had hoped that this case wouldn't involve him.

Glancing up from his notebook just long enough to verify that she was there, and to give her a derisive look, Woody reported on the situation at hand.

"No murder on this one, thank God," he began. It was clear that he was thanking God not because it wasn't murder, but because he wouldn't have to work with Jordan for long. "Just a really old guy whose time was up." He paused to turn a page. "Meet Benjamin Stevens, age 101. Maid found him this morning. History of heart disease and old age."

Jordan bent down to examine him. Working as quickly as she could, she gave Woody the man's stats, verified that he was not murdered, and arranged for him to be transported back to the morgue. Without any further acknowledgement, Woody disappeared out the door.

Jordan closed her eyes briefly. She hadn't expected letting him down to hurt so much—for either of them. More to take her mind off of Woody than anything else, she began to examine the books on a massive shelf behind the reclining deceased. The books were old…maybe even original printings. And they were all historical. Jordan surmised that the man had lived through enough of it, that he must have treasured his history. She came upon an entire shelf dedicated to the Great Depression.

One book was extremely worn. Out of curiosity, Jordan plucked it from the shelf and opened it. It was a journal—Benjamin Stevens' own, according to the inscription. As she turned the pages, Jordan glanced at all the trials the man had had when he was just starting out in life. He wasn't rich back then—far from it, actually.

Since the transport was still on its way, and Jordan didn't have anything else to do, she sat down in another chair and began to read the journal in earnest. She felt a bit strange at reading the man's private thoughts, but then again, he was dead and no one else would ever read them again.

It seemed that the transport had gotten lost, but Jordan didn't notice. She paused several times to think about what Stevens had been through. Eventually, her fatigue caught up with her, and one of those pauses left Jordan asleep in the chair.


	2. The 1930s

**Hope this chapter is interesting enough...I tried to set the scene and not be boring at the same time...so...Enjoy!:-)**

Chapter Two: The 1930's

Jordan's eyes fluttered open as the early-morning sunlight filtered into her bedroom. With a groan, she sat up and stretched her arms. No time for dozing this morning, or any morning. The day's chores were already scrolling through Jordan's mind. Feed the chickens, wash and hang the laundry, make stew, collect rent…the list went on.

Things had been especially hard since Jordan's father left. Not even a year ago, Max Cavanaugh had been a respected cop in the Boston Police Department. Then he got caught planting evidence and it was all over. Max's solution was to leave town. He hadn't even told his daughter until the night he left…and then he was gone. Jordan was strong enough to get through it…she had gotten through her mother's death when she was a child, and she'd get through Max's abandonment. But that didn't mean that his leaving didn't hurt.

Once it was clear that Max wasn't coming back, Jordan's wealthy grandparents offered her a space in their mansion. The Depression didn't seem to be hurting them any, and they took every opportunity to display that fact. Jordan knew that her grandparents weren't offering her a home out of love, or even out of familial obligation. They wanted to prove to Jordan that they were better than her, and that they could control her. Jordan had almost laughed in their faces—no one could control Jordan Cavanaugh.

To survive, Jordan had to take on boarders in her house. The economy being what it was, Jordan's small salary for her nursing job wouldn't offset the loss of Max's police pay. While she had taken in the boarders reluctantly at first, Jordan soon found that their company gave her the strength she needed to keep going.

Hurriedly Jordan whipped her hair into a bun and donned an apron. She was downstairs preparing coffee just in time for her boarder's appearances. Nigel was first, as always.

"Morning, Love," he said, grabbing the coffee and inhaling deeply before taking a sip. "Perfect as usual." He gave her a wink and sat down at the table.

Lily came down next, followed by Bug. Lily jumped right in to help Jordan with breakfast. Although she was a boarder, Lily was Jordan's friend first. Lily was the receptionist at the hospital where Jordan worked. Being single like Jordan, it was more natural for her to live with her friend than to have a place of her own.

Bug was staring at the "Help Wanted" ads while nursing his coffee. Because of his skin color, he had a hard time getting or keeping a job. It wasn't often that he could pay the rent fully, but Jordan didn't have it in her to force him out. No one had a kinder heart than Bug…except perhaps Lily.

"Dr. Macy wants everyone there early today," Lily commented as she flipped the eggs over on the stove. "He said something about new procedures that he wanted everyone to follow."

Jordan smiled. "Yes. Well, he just took over the hospital. He wants everyone to see him as the big boss instead of just another doctor."

Jordan was glad that Garret had been the Chief of Staff's replacement. She hadn't gotten along so well with Dr. Slockum, but Garret was her best friend. It was because of Garret that she was hired, kept on the staff, and was surviving the turmoil in her personal life.

* * *

Once breakfast had been made, eaten, and cleaned up, Jordan finished her other housekeeping jobs and her and Lily headed off to the hospital. The walk there was uneventful until they reached the main street into the heart of the city.

Just as the two women were crossing the street, a man blasted passed them and nearly knocked them over. Jordan was about to give the runner a piece of her mind when another figure hurried after him.

"Police!" the second man yelled. "Stop where you are! I said FREEZE!"

Unfortunately for the officer, the criminal didn't heed his commands. Soon the man was lost in the crowd. The officer walked back to Jordan and Lily.

"Sorry about that, ma'am," he said as he held his hand out to Lily. "Where either of you hurt?"

"No, we're fine," Lily replied.

He turned toward Jordan with the same gesture. "Detective Woody Hoyt," he said.

Jordan studied him. "You're new," she said as she took his hand.

He looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"My father worked at the department," she said. "I know all of the detectives."

Detective Hoyt nodded. "Well, you're right. This is my first day. I was just going to my first scene when I saw that man grab a woman's purse." He looked down. "Some start, huh?"

Lily smiled at him. "You didn't have much of a chance anyway. I'm sure you'll do fine here."

Woody thanked her. "I sure am glad to be here. There are no jobs, in the police department or otherwise, in Wisconsin where I'm from."

"How'd you get hired here?" Jordan asked, though she thought she already knew the answer.

"It was really a lot of luck," the detective started. "I started out in New York, but they didn't think a country bumpkin like me could handle such a rough-and-tumble city. So I came here. Apparently this position opened up because some other detective was dirty and got fired." He paused. "I'm happy to have a job and all, but I keep thinking about that guy. I mean, how stupid do you have to be to plant evidence in a crime? He didn't have a chance at getting away with it."

Woody noticed Jordan's expression turn sour. "What's wrong?"

Jordan stared at him for a beat. "That dirty cop whose job you have is my father," she said coldly.

"Oh…oh, gosh…I'm sorry," Woody stammered. "I didn't know who he was…really, I'm sure he was a great detective. He probably just fell into a hard time and—"

"Yes, I'm sure that was it. It's not like he is stupid or anything," Jordan said back. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to get to work."

Jordan turned on her heel and left without giving the floundering detective a backward glance.


	3. The New Boarder

**Yay! I can finally post again! Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. Enjoy:-)**

Chapter Three: A New Boarder

"Lily! Stop it!" Jordan chastised her friend as she passed the reception area. Lily simply smiled, that all-knowing glint in her eyes.

Jordan stopped and glared at her friend. "I am not attracted to him."

Shrugging, Lily replied, "Whatever you say, Jordan. You can lie to yourself, but I know better."

Rolling her eyes, Jordan turned to find her next patient. She loved her friend, but Lily's ability to read her was often annoying…and sometimes, unnerving. It seemed that, regardless of Jordan's denial, the novice boy detective would not leave Jordan's mind. Of course, she reasoned, it was because she was so angry with him over his flippant comment about her father. But that couldn't account for her deliberations on the blueness of his eyes, or his funny accent, or….

Sighing to herself, Jordan walked purposefully towards her new patient's bed. Work would clear her mind—it always did.

The patient, a man, was sitting on the bed facing away from her. The paper in front of her indicated that the man had a cut on his forehead—no stitches, just cleaning. "Good afternoon, sir," she said.

"Hello." A pair of blue eyes met hers in surprise. The detective who had been consuming her thoughts was staring right at her, in the flesh.

Jordan felt an uncharacteristic heat move up her face. Woody looked away, feeling equally ill at ease.

"Well…ah…looks like your first day hasn't gotten any better," Jordan finally managed to say. She busied herself with the ointment and bandage.

Woody gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "No, it hasn't." He paused. "Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier…I was—"

"No need. It's not like you knew that he was my father," Jordan said back. Why did he have to be so nice?

"I know," he replied. "But still…I'm sorry. Back in Wisconsin, everything is so simple. Not here…there are so many struggles…I had no business saying what I did."

"It's all right," she reiterated. "Let's just forget about it, okay? I need to clean your cut."

Woody closed his eyes as she examined his forehead and began to clean his wound. "How'd this happen, anyway?" she asked, uncomfortable with the awkward silence.

"Oh…I uh…I was chasing another thief, and uh…she hid behind some trash cans and then she pushed them over right as I went passed," Woody said. It was his turn to blush.

"Wait a minute. You got beat up by a girl?" Jordan said incredulously.

Woody pulled a mock hurt face. "You don't have to say it like that."

Jordan smiled.

Another few minutes of silence passed. Jordan had finished bandaging him up when Woody spoke again.

"Hey…do you know of anywhere I could rent a place to stay?"

Jordan raised one eyebrow. "You don't have a place already?"

He shook his head. "No. I've been staying in a hotel, but I'd rather find either an apartment or a boarding house."

"Well, you're in luck—Jordan runs a boarding house herself!"

Both heads turned towards the high-pitched, excited voice. Jordan's expression withered while Woody's lit up at Lily. She had walked by just in time to hear about Woody's predicament.

"Unfortunately, I'm all full," Jordan said. She gave Lily a death stare, and the other woman was smart enough not to counter her landlord. Turning to Woody, Jordan continued, "But there's a place up the street from me."

Woody's face fell, but he recovered. He turned to Jordan, giving her a good view of his blue eyes. "That's too bad…_Jordan_," he said, emphasizing his knew knowledge of her name. "I guess I'll just have to look into that other place.

Lily couldn't keep quiet any longer. "I'm sure Jordan could make room _somewhere_," she said. It was her turn to fix her gaze on Jordan. "I for one would feel very safe with a policeman in the house."

Jordan raised her eyebrows. "Detective Hoyt's record so far doesn't give me much comfort," she said, half-playing.

Neither of the other two said anything—they just stared at her expectantly. When the silence dragged on, Jordan gave an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, fine!" she relented. Turning to Woody, she added, "Rent is $20 a month. Dinner is at six."

After that, Jordan turned her back on her boarders and walked away. She went straight to Garret and invited him to dinner. The more people there tonight, the less she would have to interact with the blue-eyed detective.


	4. Midnight Visitor

**Here we go! This chapter starts to get more into the plot conflict. Bonus points to anyone who can guess who the midnight "guest" is! Thanks for all the reviews...enjoy:-)**

Chapter Four: Midnight Visitor

"Goodnight, Jordan," Garret called from the hallway. Jordan, apron soaking from washing dishes, came out to see Garret off. The evening, despite her discomfort with her new house guest, had been uneventful.

"Be careful," she admonished while giving him a hug.

Garret donned his hat and stepped outside. "Oh, and Jordan," he said turning back to her. She looked at him expectantly. "You ought to give Detective Hoyt a chance. He seems like a nice guy."

Jordan opened her mouth to protest, but Garret continued. "Caring about someone is not a bad thing, you know. You need to learn how to trust people." With a last smile, Garret left a bewildered Jordan on the steps and headed home.

She closed the door and leaned her head against it for a moment. Why was everyone assuming that she had a thing for Detective Hoyt? Nigel had made one of his usual unseemly comments about it earlier, and now Garret. Jordan tried not to groan in her frustration.

"Jordan?" Lily called from the kitchen. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Lily," she called. Quickly Jordan straightened up and went back to helping her friend clean up dinner.

* * *

Jordan had set Woody up in the same room as Bug. She didn't think the country boy could handle Nigel's many idiosyncrasies, and Bug was the only other male left. They seemed friendly enough at dinner, anyway. Woody didn't have a lot of stuff, so the two were back out in the living room in hardly any time at all.

The evening was quiet. Fall weather had begun to set in, so Jordan had started a small fire to keep everyone warm. As the newcomer, Woody was the center of attention. He kept the group occupied with stories from his home town…Jordan found herself laughing along with the others at some of the crazy things that Woody had done. Life in Wisconsin sounded like it was a world away from Boston.

Finally, as the fire died down, everyone's eyes began to droop. Lily was the first to turn in for the night, followed by Bug and Nigel. Jordan fidgeted once it was just her and Woody.

Woody didn't seem to mind—he didn't even seem to notice. He was staring at the remnants of the fire with a faraway look in his eyes. Despite her uneasiness, Jordan found herself taking the time to study her newest boarder. The detective really did have nice blue eyes…he had also shown several dimples that night when he smiled. His hair was sticking up in every direction because of the many times his hands had passed through it. All in all, Woody was a very attractive man.

Jordan shook herself. Why was she doing this? Men were only trouble…she had too much experience learning that lesson the hard way. Plus, he was a cop. That was definitely off limits. Jordan had her fill of police and everything to do with them. No, she needed to put Woody squarely in the "houseguest" box. He was a boarder—nothing more.

Hoping that she wasn't being rude, but really not caring that much, Jordan excused herself and left Woody daydreaming by the fire. He was intelligent—surely he could find his way back to his bedroom on his own.

In the solitude of her room, Jordan let her hair down and climbed into her bed. Sleep didn't come easily…but eventually, Jordan drifted off.

* * *

Sound asleep, Jordan didn't hear the glass break. She didn't wake up until the shouting began.

Hurriedly, Jordan jumped out of bed and grabbed her revolver. She was down the stairs just in time to see Woody bursting out the front door and leaping over the steps. She turned to Bug, who was in the den. Lily and Nigel came down the stairs right behind her.

"Someone broke in," Bug explained. "We heard the window break and footsteps. Woody went to check it out, and then whoever it was started yelling like a mad man. It sounded like he was looking for something specific. He didn't expect Woody—as if he thought no one would hear his breaking in."

Jordan nodded. "Where was the man? Did he get passed the den?"

"No…he was only in here."

Jordan looked around cautiously. The man had obviously searching for something. Books had been pulled from the shelves, sofa cushions upturned, and papers from Jordan's desk scattered about the floor.

Before long, Woody came back. He was clearly winded, and empty-handed. His gun was holstered. Apparently, he hadn't even had a chance to change his clothes before the intruder came.

"I lost him," Woody said unnecessarily. "He cut between two houses at the end of the street, and was nowhere on the other side."

Nigel stood up from inspecting the window. "What did he look like? Could he have been a hobo?"

Woody shook his head. "Too clean. He was older…white hair. He could really run, though. Had an Irish accent."

Jordan sighed. "That doesn't mean much here…almost half the residents of Boston are Irish."

Nodding, Woody continued. "He was searching through your papers by the time I got out here. Any idea what he could have wanted?"

It was Jordan's turn to shake her head. "I don't keep anything really important out in the open like this…no bills or money or bank statements. Those papers are just letters and lists of chores. If he was after money, it wouldn't be there."

"I think we should send in a report," Woody advised. "Maybe this guy has been around other houses recently. It might help."

Jordan nodded. "There's a phone over…." She stopped and sighed. Going over to an end table, Jordan picked the phone up off the floor and set it upright. "I'll make the call."

"All right," Woody said. He turned to the others. "Just leave everything where it is. The police will want an accurate picture of what happened. We can clean up in the morning."

After finishing her phone call, Jordan moved everyone into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. No one was going to get any more sleep tonight. Despite her earlier sentiments, Jordan thought that Lily's offhand comment about feeling safer with a cop around now seemed ominously predictive.


	5. Mystery

**Hello, wonderful readers! It's time for another chapter--yay! To those of you who tried to guess the idenity of Mr. Intruder, it is not Max. He does have a connection to Max, though...and I'm not going to say anymore. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy:-)**

Chapter Five: Mystery

Wearily Jordan sat down at her desk. It had been a long, long day. Even after the police had came and left she hadn't gotten any sleep. The world didn't wait for her to collect her thoughts or her things, either, and Jordan had spent most of the day at the hospital.

Now she was home, and dusk was setting in. Jordan went to work cleaning up her desk. Her friends had graciously cleaned up everything else, but since they didn't know how she liked her desk set up they had left that to her. Jordan was grateful, both for the help and for the fact that they had left her desk alone. While there was nothing of monetary value in there, the desk held all of Jordan's personal treasures. She wanted those kept to herself.

Jordan began to sift through all of the papers. Fortunately, nothing was torn. She put everything into separate piles—letters, photographs, journals—and them started putting them back where they belonged. Jordan paused when she came across a picture of her and her mother. It had been taken only a year before her mother died. Sighing, Jordan carefully placed it back in its frame and set it upright.

Just then someone placed a cup of coffee on the desk. Jordan looked up to see Woody. She smiled softly in thanks, and he smiled back. Taking a sip, Jordan closed her tired eyes and let the hot liquid soothe her body.

"How's it going?" Woody asked gently.

Jordan shrugged. "I'm almost done…just a few more things."

Woody nodded. "I checked with the detective on the case. He said that the man we described hasn't been involved in any other break-ins that they know of."

"So he's new to the criminal life…or he just hasn't been caught," Jordan replied. "Or…he's only after me."

"Not necessarily," Woody said quickly. "He could just be a drifter…in Boston one day, and gone the next."

Jordan took another sip of her coffee. "I hope so."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Jordan spoke again. "I guess this isn't how you envisioned your life to be here."

"No," Woody chuckled. "No, it's not…but it's better than the nothing that was happening in Wisconsin."

"Not many people there anymore?" Jordan asked.

Woody shook his head. "No, they've all left for the cities…my hometown is practically a ghost town."

Jordan studied him a bit. "No family?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"No, none," Woody said. He drew a breath. "My parents died when I was a kid, and my brother, Cal…he's a drifter." Woody had that faraway look in his eyes again, and Jordan wondered what the story was behind it all.

Woody recovered soon after. "So…what about you? I guess there's no other family for you to stay with?"

Jordan snorted. "Not that I want to stay with." Woody looked at her quizzically. She rolled her eyes. "I have relatives who are…affluent," she explained, making the word 'affluent' sound like a disgusting disease. "I have no desire to live under their uppity, close-minded rule."

Woody laughed. "It seems like you're doing okay anyway," he conceded.

"I get along," she said back. "Replacing dad's income with boarders has helped…in a lot of ways…but I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt it," Woody said. He gave her a smile, and Jordan couldn't help but notice his dimples. They gave him an almost innocent look.

Before either of them could say anything further, a commotion came from the back yard. Jordan looked at Woody, alarmed. The pair quickly got up and ran to the door. Woody stopped Jordan just as she was about to fling it open, and pulled her back. She gave him a glare, but he had already drawn his pistol and was opening the door himself.

Shouting and squawking greeted them. Jordan flipped on the lights to the porch, and the chicken coop was bathed in light. Both of them stood still in shock before bursting into laughter.

"What?" Nigel asked, extracting his lanky form from the coop.

"Nigel," Jordan got out between gasps. "What…are you doing…with the…chickens?"

Nigel didn't look at all amused. "Bloody bird stole my glove," he said indignantly.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't get that close to the coop anymore, then," offered Woody as his sniggers died down.

Without another word, Nigel simply donned his hat and his recovered glove and gracefully swept into the house.

"Well, I guess that solves that mystery," Woody said as he put his pistol away.

Jordan turned to him and was about to reply, but she stopped when her eyes caught something behind him. Her face turned ashen.

Woody whipped around and followed her gaze. For just an instant, he saw what she was looking at. An old man's face stared back at him…a face with white hair. As soon as Woody saw it, the face disappeared.

He turned back to her.

"He's not a drifter," Jordan whispered.


	6. Investigating

**Hello! I know it's been a horribly long time since I updated. School musical and conferences + spring break + getting sick = no new chapters. But that's all over now, so I should be back on track.**

**For those of you still guessing mystery man's identity, I would tell you to think Season 4, but it will be a moot point after you read this.**

**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy:-)**

Chapter Five: Investigating

Jordan stifled a yawn as she checked into the hospital. The weekend hadn't gotten any better. Even though the men boarded up the broken window and Woody kept watch at night, Jordan still had a hard time sleeping. She couldn't get the man's face out of her mind…or the idea that he would come back sometime soon.

"Jordan!" a sharp voice shook her out of her reverie. Turning, Jordan saw Garret staring back at her.

"What?" she asked.

He continued to stare. "Are you okay? I called your name three times…you were in a trance."

She closed her eyes briefly. "Yeah…I'm fine." Garret cocked his head, clearly not believing her. "Really," she added.

"You look beat," he observed. "What's going on?"

Jordan tried not to roll her eyes. Garret was just as perceptive as Lily. Deciding that it wasn't worth it to hide from Garret, Jordan filled him in on the break-in.

Garret was alarmed. "Do you have any idea who it is?" he asked.

Jordan shrugged. "Not a clue."

After thinking for a minute, Garret continued, "Maybe you could stay at my place. I have plenty of r—"

"No way," Jordan interrupted.

"But Jordan—"

"_No_," she emphasized. "I have several people and a house to take care of. I'm not letting this scumbag rule my life."

Garret _did_ roll his eyes. "You are so stubborn, you know. You're going to get yourself hurt. If this guy comes back—"

Jordan silenced him with a stare. "I'll. Be. Fine."

Garret sighed. "All right," he said. After another moment he added, "Could this possibly have anything to do with Max?"

Jordan gave Garret an angry look. Without saying anything, she turned on her heel and stalked off.

LINE

Over at the precinct, Woody was sitting at his desk staring into space. He had reported everything new—which was not much—to the detective handling Jordan's case.

The detective was not very helpful. Woody knew that the man had other cases, but this one was important. That afternoon Woody had begun to work on the case himself, but it wasn't going well. How did you identify a face like a ghost?

Staring at the wall wasn't helping, either. Woody smacked his hand on his desk in frustration. Then he got up, stretched, and ventured outside his office for some coffee. The dark brown liquid burned in his throat, and focused his senses. The only person Jordan knew who would be in any way connected to a criminal was her father.

The thought was like a light bulb turning on. No one would target Jordan except someone who knew her father…and the man wanted something in her house, where Max had lived.

The hunch sent Woody to the file room. He quickly pulled the section that had all of Max's cases. Maybe someone he collared during his time on the force…and now they wanted revenge? Or just in spite, perhaps?

Satisfied that he had a lead, Woody took the stack of files back to his office for further investigation.

LINE

"Look at these," Woody said to Jordan. It was now late night…all of the others had gone to bed. "They're your father's cases. I picked ones that could be related…matching description, perps that promised to get revenge, that sort of thing."

Jordan sighed. "This being about my father had crossed my mind," she admitted. "Either that or it could be about my mother." Jordan looked down. "Those are the only two things that make any sense. I'm not sure which one I want to be right."

Gently, Woody took Jordan's hand, which had been fidgeting with her apron. "We'll find this guy…we'll figure it out," he said. "And whatever or whoever caused this, you'll have some answers and be able to put it to rest." He squeezed her hand.

Jordan nodded and brushed her hair out of her face. Needing something to distract her from Woody's touch, she turned back to the files and started looking through them, though she didn't remove her hand from Woody's grasp.

"I don't know, Woody," she said after going through the fifth case file. "It really could be any of these people…they all have motives and they all look similar. I guess old white-haired guys are a dime a dozen."

Woody smiled. "I know…it's kind of a long shot, but we have to start somewhere."

Jordan agreed. Slowly they both worked their way through the huge stack.

"This one just got out of prison," Jordan noticed, holding up the file for Woody to see. "It says he was a big player in the Irish mob. He would have an accent then."

"Look at the picture," Woody encouraged.

The file was thick. It took Jordan a moment to find the photograph. When she did, she froze. She pulled it out of the folder and held it up. "It's him…Woody, that's the guy, isn't it?"

Woody took the picture from her and studied it. "It sure is," he replied.

Below the image of the man read the name Kevin Kahill.


	7. Missing Persons

**Hello there! Getting to the good part now...I hope that this is different enough from the actual Kahill story to be interesting. Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy!:-)**

Chapter Seven: Missing Persons

The next logical thing for them to do was to find Max. The case file on Kahill hadn't left anything as to why the man would be breaking in to the house, other than revenge. Woody didn't think that was likely—or at least, that simple—since there was nothing particularly special about Kahill.

"Even his mob activity wasn't that big," he commented to Jordan the next night. "It was just a normal bust. Kahill has to have another reason for going after you two…if it was revenge for getting locked up, there's a whole host of people he would target. No break-ins have been reported for anyone else who was on the case."

Jordan gave him a humorless smile. "I guess we're just special, then." Her mood had been sour the entire day. She knew that Woody had taken over the case at the precinct, but that didn't make things any easier. She wanted it to be random—her family was already complicated enough.

"Any idea where Max could be?" Woody asked. "None of his old cop buddies have any clue."

Shrugging, Jordan shook her head. "He didn't tell me anything. Didn't even tell me he was leaving. One morning he was just gone…all his note said was that he needed to get away for a while. I don't know where he went, or if he'll ever be back." Her shoulders sagged with the weight of Max's abandonment. It had been rough trying to carve out a living on her own, especially in these times, and now Max had added one more problem to the list.

"Any friends that he had outside the force? Family, maybe?" Woody pressed. He knew that Jordan didn't like divulging information about her family, but this was necessary. He was certain that Max would have all the answers.

"No family…his parents died way before I was born," Jordan supplied. "He has a few friends, but I doubt he told them anything."

With a bit more convincing, Jordan gave Woody the names. He would run them down tomorrow and see if it led anywhere.

After Jordan had retired for the night, Woody sat up by the fire. He kept his pistol close at hand as he leafed through the Kahill file again. The man hadn't tried anything else in the past couple of days, which Woody thought was odd. Kahill must be biding his time, waiting to strike at just the right moment. Of that, Woody was sure.

* * *

Jordan paused from doing the dishes to stretch her back. She had gotten off of work earlier than usual and was using the time to catch up on housework. Lily was still at the hospital, and Woody was working a late shift.

Jordan didn't know when Bug and Nigel would be home. Bug took every job he could find, no matter what the hours and Nigel was…Nigel. Jordan laughed to herself as she thought of some of the things the man had done to earn money. His latest scheme was to give tours of haunted buildings in Boston…except they weren't really haunted and he just made stories up as he went along. Jordan had to give him credit, though; he was extremely creative.

When she heard the door open, Jordan assumed it was one of "her boys" and called out a greeting. None was returned, and Jordan continued with her washing until she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

She froze when she felt the steel gun barrel against her temple.

"Where is Max?" a deep Irish accent asked. Jordan didn't need to see the man to know who it was.

"I don't know," she said softly, but resolutely.

The barrel was pressed harder. "Where is he?" Kahill repeated.

"I. Don't. Know."

Kahill let out a mirthless chuckle. "All right, then. How about my money? What did he do with it?"

Jordan's eyes narrowed. "What money?" she asked.

He was getting angry. "You're pretty, but you're not stupid. Where's the money your father stole from me?"

"I don't know anything about any money," she said. "My father left without telling me anything. If I knew he was sitting on a bunch of money, do you really think I'd have to rent my house out?"

Silence followed. "Well, Lass, I guess I'm not persuasive enough today," Kahill said. "When you find your father, you tell him about me. Make no mistake, I'm going to kill him for what he did."

The gun was removed from Jordan's head. She waited, not moving until long after she heard the door open and shut. With shaky hands, she quickly drained the sink and left the house to find Woody.

* * *

Woody reacted predictably—the alpha male instantly became protective. He insisted that he be with Jordan wherever she went. Jordan balked at the idea.

"You are not my babysitter," she reminded pointedly. "I can take care of myself. I just thought you should know about it since you're on the case!" Jordan knew that she was half-lying, but she would not allow herself to be weak in front of Woody. And she absolutely did not want someone watching her all the time.

"But Jordan, this man is dangerous," Woody protested. "If he doesn't find Max, he'll be back and he could hurt you." Woody wore his heart on his sleeves…Jordan could see the concern on his face and she was touched. But not enough to give in.

"No, Woody. We both have jobs, and I'm rarely alone anyway," she said. "I am not going to let him scare me out of my home!"

Finally, Woody backed down. "Okay, Jordan, but you need to be careful," he said while putting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't want you hurt," he reiterated softly.

Jordan smiled shyly, not being used to the affection. "I'll be fine," she asserted. "Lily will be home when I get back, and probably the others too. Besides, Kahill isn't coming back today. He's made his point; he'll wait to see what happens."

Woody sighed. "Okay…but go straight home, and keep your pistol close," he admonished. He couldn't give in completely.

"I promise."

Woody smiled at Jordan and released her.

* * *

But when Woody got home, Jordan wasn't there.

"Lily," he asked. "Have you seen Jordan?"

She looked at him perplexed. "No…I got home at five. I assumed she was at the market."

"No, she's not," he said. Then, he hurriedly filled Lily in on what happened. She didn't react to the news any better than Woody had. Quickly, she got Bug and Nigel, but they hadn't seen her either.

"Woodrow, what happened?" Nigel asked frantically.

"She promised me," Woody started. "She promised me that she would come straight home."

"Jordan hasn't been here since around three when I got back," Bug offered.

"Then there's no way she's out shopping…maybe she stopped at the hospital instead," Lily thought, wringing her hands.

A phone call to Garret confirmed the opposite—Jordan wasn't there, and hadn't been there since her shift ended.

Jordan was missing.


	8. Truth and Consequences

**Woo hoo! Chapter eight...lots of suspense. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy:-)**

Chapter Eight: Truth and Consequences

Jordan pounded on the door in frustration. Her anger far outweighed her fear, at least for the time being. It didn't seem to matter, though—the locked door holding her refused to budge.

She had just turned onto her block when Kahill appeared behind Jordan, shoving the gun into her back. "You're coming with me, sweetheart," he said.

"It hasn't been hardly an hour," Jordan replied. "I still don't know where my father is."

Kahill chuckled. "Maybe not, but I'm sure Max knows where you are. He'll come…anything to save his daughter." Forcefully, he pulled Jordan onto a tiny path in the forest behind the houses.

"For all I know, he could be in California by now," Jordan continued. "My father didn't tell me where he was going. Just a note saying that he'd be gone for a while."

"Max is here," Kahill insisted. "The only thing he ever talked about when he wasn't interrogating me was his precious daughter. He'll try to rescue you, and when he comes I'm going to kill him."

Alarmed as she was at Kahill's threat, there had been nothing she could do about it then. Instead, she tried to keep him talking as they trekked through the forest, the gun still poised between her shoulder blades. She thought that knowing more information would help her escape. What she found out, however, didn't make her feel any better.

"Max framed me," Kahill explained. "Made sure I got locked up, and then he stole my money. Had one million dollars stashed away. He found it, and he wanted it. So he planted the evidence against me."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Jordan said, exasperated.

Kahill shoved her. "That thing he got fired for wasn't the first time he'd planted evidence, sweetheart."

Jordan shot him an angry look. "If he had one million dollars, don't you think I would have known about it? That maybe we wouldn't be so strapped for cash now? I've lived in that house since I was born. There's no extra money hiding beneath a floorboard!"

Another shove. "Maybe that's really why Max ran away. Finally found a way he could spend the money without getting caught. Well, I caught him. And I'm going to kill him."

That was when Jordan had stopped asking questions. She didn't want to hear anymore; and the more he talked, the more violent Kahill got. Their journey was long—so much so that Jordan's limbs ached by the time they reached Kahill's hideout.

A warehouse on the pier…just like something out of the films. Jordan would have laughed if she hadn't felt so bad.

He'd locked her in a tiny little room and left without a word. That was when Jordan allowed her anger to boil over. She was angry at herself for even letting Kahill get her—she should have listened to Woody and stayed at the precinct.

She was angry at Kahill. The man had no right to mess with her, even if what he had said was true. Kahill wasn't innocent. Jordan had no doubt in her mind that, while the evidence may have been planted, Kahill had done exactly what he had been convicted of.

Most of all, she was angry at her father. She didn't trust him anymore than she trusted Kahill. This mess was his fault. If he'd never planted evidence on anyone in the first place, she wouldn't be here. On her own, trying to keep her house. Depending on friends to support her. Alone and locked in a room in a warehouse.

She struck the door again. She hoped that Kahill was wrong…that her dad wasn't close by, watching her every move. For one, she didn't want to give Kahill the satisfaction of being right. And even though she was angry at him, Jordan didn't want her father to be killed. But most of all, right now, Jordan just didn't want to see her father at all. She didn't think she ever wanted to see him again.

Unable to break the door, Jordan sat down on the floor. Her anger was far from spent, but her body was. She'd just have to wait Kahill out and try to escape when he came back.

* * *

Lily frantically paced across the room. Woody, Bug, Nigel, and Garret were pouring over the Kahill file. Garret had come over to the house a soon as they told him Jordan was missing.

"Okay, here are the transcripts from the trial," Woody started. "I received them from the DA just before I left work so I haven't read them yet."

"Why would those matter?" Nigel asked.

"Jordan said something about Kahill looking for money. I thought that these might say something about it, because there's no mention of money in the evidence log," Woody replied.

Hurriedly, he skimmed through it. "Nothing," he spat out. "How on earth are we going to find her?"

"We will," Garret said. "What else do we know about Kahill? What did he do before he went to prison?"

Bug read from the file. "Just the usual mob stuff. Money laundering, mostly. That could be where the money Kahill's talking about came from. He was a hit man, which got him convicted. But he wasn't anywhere near the top of the hierarchy in the Irish mob."

"What about jobs?" Woody pressed. "Kahill would have had a regular job so that he could look legit."

"The mob owns half of Boston…there's a myriad of things Kahill could have been into," Garret observed.

Nigel pulled the file from Bug's hands. "Look here," he said. He turned the file around so that everyone could see it. "Kahill worked in distribution. Says that he owned several warehouses in the bay."

"They would have been shut down after he was convicted," Lily commented.

Woody was already out of his seat and heading for the door. "Which means they would be a perfect hideout," he called behind him.

Garret jumped up and ran after him. "I'm coming with you!" he shouted.

Woody turned around. "No. No…I'm a cop. I can't have anyone else involved in this."

"Too bad," Garret said as he opened the door. "You don't have a car. You aren't going to get there very fast on foot. I'm coming."

With a nod, Woody acquiesced. He shot a warning glare to the others, who looked like they were going to follow, and headed out the door.

He nearly ran into Garret, who had stopped at the end of the steps. "What?" Woody yelled. Then he looked past Garret and saw a large, white-haired man standing in his path.

"I'm coming with you," the man said.

Woody drew his gun. "Who are you?" he asked.

Garret pushed the gun away. "It's Max. Jordan's father."

* * *

She heard his footsteps before anything else. Kahill was coming, and Jordan had a plan. Noiselessly, she moved so that she was flat against the wall, right next to the hinges on the door.

Jordan heard the key being inserted into the lock, and then the bolt tumbled over. As Kahill swung open the door, Jordan grabbed the inside handle and shoved it back at him with all her might.

It worked. The door caught Kahill right in the face. With a shout, he tumbled backwards and fell down.

Jordan bolted out the door and ran in the opposite direction. Kahill cursed and grabbed his gun. Jordan had barely jumped behind a huge pile of boxes when he fired the bullet.

Trying to be quiet and fast at the same time, Jordan raced through the warehouse. Her hair, which had come undone from its up-do long ago, flew behind her.

Kahill called after her, but she didn't stop. He fired more shots, but she kept running. Every time Jordan ducked behind an obstacle, she heard him coming behind her and she didn't feel safe staying where she was.

The chase carried on, for how long Jordan didn't know. She was no longer able to tell where Kahill was. The echos of his voice and his gunshots rang so badly off the walls that she couldn't figure out where they were coming from. She just kept running.

Then, Jordan ran straight into him.


	9. And So It Came To Pass

**Hey! Is it just me, or does it seem kind of slow in here? Hope it's just the Springtime Busyness. Anyway...on to the next chapter. Enjoy, and thanks for your sweet reviews.:-)**

Chapter Nine: And So It Came To Pass

Jordan pulled away, but the man's arms encircled her and held her fast.

"Jordan, it's okay," the man said.

Jordan stopped struggling. "Woody?" she whispered. In her relief, she threw her arms around him.

Just then a bullet whizzed by their heads and ping-ponged off the metal walls. "Come on out, sweetheart," Kahill shouted. "It's going to end the same no matter what you do!"

"Come on!" Woody urged. They both ducked into the entry way by which Woody had just entered.

Kneeling down on the floor, Woody took a moment to look her over. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah." Jordan nodded. "I'm fine."

"Good. Now go outside…Garret is there with the car. You stay with him," Woody told her.

"No! I'm coming with you!" Jordan argued.

Woody shook his head. "It's too danger—"

"I'm not leaving!" she interrupted him.

"Yes, you are," another voice announced from behind her. Jordan turned to look into her father's eyes. Time stood still as Jordan processed who was standing in front of her. Just as the shock wore off and anger flashed in her eyes, Woody took action and pushed her towards the door.

"I'll explain later," was all Max said as she was unceremoniously deposited outside. The door swung shut before she could turn around.

* * *

Another pair of hands immediately grabbed her, and Garret started pulling her away from the building and towards his car.

"Garret, let me go!" Jordan cried.

"No," he replied as they reached the car. "You need to stay here…it's not safe in there."

"But Woody," Jordan said.

"He'll be fine," Garret answered. He placed her in the passenger seat and then scooted in next to her. "He called for back-up before he left the house."

Jordan still looked like she would protest, so Garret added, "There's nothing you can do in there…they're safer on their own."

There was no argument against that, and Jordan turned her gaze worriedly on the warehouse.

The minutes ticked by while the silence hung tensely around them. No sound or person came from the building.

Just as Jordan had had enough of the waiting, gunshots filled the air. Garret had to bear hug her to prevent Jordan from running back into the building.

To her, the shots seemed to go on forever. After they stopped, Garret refused to release her. They waited again, but Jordan broke free as soon as she felt Garret relax a bit.

She charged to the building door, but slowed down as she reached it so that she could enter quietly.

There were no sounds when she did. Careful not to make her footfalls heard, Jordan moved along the walls until she was deep inside the warehouse. She could faintly hear sirens…approaching police cars.

Then she saw them—two figures lying still on the floor and the third bending over the farthest man. Tossing stealth to the wind, Jordan ran towards the trio.

She paused at the first fallen man. White hair, eyes closed, and blood pouring out of his head. Kahill…clearly dead. Whatever danger there had been had passed; now there was only fear of who was hurt.

More cautiously, Jordan came toward the other men. Once she was close, she saw that her father was the man standing up. She paled as she recognized Woody's frame sprawled out on the ground.

"He's not?" she asked, panicky.

Max looked up as his daughter rushed forward. "He's breathing…he's hit, but I don't know where."

Jordan bent down and touched his face. "Woody?" she asked timidly. No answer. "Woody, come on. Wake up!"

All she could hear were the sirens.

* * *

During the ride to the hospital, Jordan exploded at Max. All of her emotions overwhelmed her, and she let the anger come through loud and clear.

"Jordan, I'm sorry," Max said. "Look, I never took the money. I never even intended on taking it. One of Kahill's cronies must have done it, because it was gone when we went to get it for evidence."

This didn't appease Jordan. "But you still framed him!"

"He was guilty!"

"That doesn't matter!" she shouted back at him. "It was because you framed him that he thought you had stolen his money. If you never had done that, Kahill wouldn't have come after you. If you hadn't planted evidence in the first place, none of this would ever have happened!"

Deducing correctly that Jordan was talking about more than just Kahill, Max sighed. "I know…I know."

"And now Woody's—"

Jordan didn't finish that sentence, but the ending hung in the air. Then she started in on Max again. "And you were here, all along! You were following me!"

Max looked at her. "You're my daughter. I wanted to know how you were doing."

"Then why didn't you just stay?"

He looked away at that. "Because you were so disappointed in me. And I couldn't stay around, seeing everyone all the time. I just needed sometime alone."

His explanation fell on mostly deaf ears—Garret had pulled into the hospital lot and Jordan was already half way to the doors.


	10. Present Beginnings

**This is the last chapter! I'm not completely satisfied with it...or the whole story, for that matter. I guess that's what happens when you don't know where you're going with it when you start. Anyway, I have an idea for a new story, but I want to get the big picture plannned before I start anything. All I know right now is that it involves Jordan and Woody going undercover, but not as a married couple like most of those stories are.**

**I appreciate the reviews. Enjoy:-)**

Chapter Ten: Present Beginnings

The waiting seemed to go on forever. Jordan paced a continuous path between the rows of chairs…Garret and Max on one side, Bug, Lily, and Nigel on the other. All of them watching the trail of her skirts.

After an eternity, the doctor finally stepped over to them. "Detective Hoyt?" he asked. Everyone nodded, but as Jordan was standing, the doctor addressed her specifically.

"He'll be fine," he said. Jordan let out the breath she was holding. The doctor continued, "He was shot through the left shoulder, so the bullet missed everything vital. The surgery went well; Detective Hoyt is recovering in a room down the hall."

"Can I see him?" Jordan asked.

The doctor nodded. "He'll probably be asleep, but I don't see any harm in it. Room 311." He pointed in the direction of the room and left.

Jordan glanced back at the others and walked briskly to his door. She paused at the entrance, wiping her hands on her dress. Quietly, she slipped inside.

Woody was indeed asleep. His face was a bit pale, and there was a huge bandage around his shoulder, but otherwise he looked all right.

Jordan walked silently up to his bed and sat down on it. She was careful not to make noise, but the movement woke him up anyway.

"Hey," she said once his eyes focused.

"Hey," he answered back, his voice hoarse. "I'm in the hospital?"

Jordan almost laughed at his question. "Yeah…do you remember what happened?"

Woody closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah…Kahill?"

"You got him," Jordan replied. "He's dead."

Woody sighed. "Good…that's good." Then he looked at her. "Now he can't hurt you."

Jordan smiled. "I know." She paused and looked down at her hands. "I was worried about you…I thought that you'd…I thought…."

Woody took her hands. "I know," he said softly.

Then he reached up and ran his other hand gently—almost timidly—through Jordan's still-down hair. It got caught halfway down. He tenderly pulled the offending leaf from her dark tresses.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly.

Jordan started to nod, but the evening's stress caught up with her and she felt tears prick her eyelids. Not wanting them to fall, she closed her eyes tightly.

"Come here," Woody said. His outstretched arms guided her to lie next to him, her head resting on his chest. After a few minutes he kissed her forehead, causing Jordan to look up.

She didn't know how it happened, but in the next second Jordan found her face millimeters away from Woody's. His hand cradled her face, and he kissed her.

The kiss was heaven. Jordan absolutely melted in his embrace. She realized that she was so taken with him that she was shaking…and she hoped that he never stopped.

But why was Nigel calling her?

* * *

Jordan felt her body shake again. "Jordan," the British voice continued to call. "Jordan, wake up."

She opened her eyes slowly. Nigel was standing over her, his hand on her shoulder. "Sorry we're so late, Love," he apologized. "Traffic was awful."

Jordan looked around, still a bit disoriented. "Where is Mr. Stevens's body?" she asked, remembering where she was.

"He's all loaded up and ready for transport," Nigel answered. "You were out to the world, so I thought I'd just let you sleep a bit longer."

Jordan flashed him a small smile, but her dream stayed in her head and motivated her out of the chair. "Thanks Nige," she said. "I uh, I have to go do something. Will you take him back and prep him? I'll do the autopsy first thing tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Love."

* * *

Jordan went to the precinct, but Woody had already gone home for the night. Knowing that he wouldn't answer a call from her cell phone, Jordan decided to go to his apartment.

He wasn't home yet, but Jordan didn't want to wait any longer…she wasn't sure she'd bet able to do this tomorrow. Instead, she took a seat next to his door to wait for him.

The wait wasn't long. Woody soon turned the corner, a bag of Chinese food dangling from his hand. He stopped short when he saw Jordan sitting on the floor.

"The autopsy done?" he asked gruffly.

Jordan blinked a few times, confused. "Oh…no. It's not," she said while standing up. "Nigel didn't get there until about an hour ago, so I'm going to do it tomorrow."

Woody gave an exasperated sigh. "So what do you want?" he asked while fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"I…I…," Jordan blew out a breath. There was no turning back now. "I want the ring," she blurted.

It was enough of a shock for Woody to pause just as the door swung open. "What?" he asked.

"I know, it's terrible timing and everything…but I want to wear your ring," she said.

Woody shook his head and went inside. Jordan followed him before he could shut the door on her.

"Really, Woody. I'm serious," she started. "I…I wanted to accept it the first time…I was just…afraid. You know me. I thought that if our relationship changed that I'd lose you."

"And now?" he asked angrily.

Jordan faltered. "I'm sorry," she answered softly. "I'm so mixed up…I never thought that by _not_ letting our relationship change, I would lose you anyway."

Woody looked at her for a beat. "Why should I believe you?" It was an honest question, not asked in bitterness.

She spread her hands out to him. "I can't say anything to make you believe me…but," she took a deep breath. "I love you."

Jordan looked up at him, hoping that she hadn't made a huge mistake. Woody didn't say anything. He just stood there. After a while, Jordan dropped her hands and turned to leave…she had to get out of there before Woody saw her cry.

"Wait."

She stopped, but didn't turn around. She heard him leave the room, and then heard a drawer open and close. He came back and stood in front of her.

He tipped her face up so that she could see his. "I don't know if I should do this," he said, almost to himself. "I love you, too, Jordan." He held up something to her.

It was the ring. Jordan gasped. "You really kept it?" she asked.

"I couldn't give up on you," he said. "Even though I was angry, I couldn't bring myself to take it back…to give up."

Tears did make their way down Jordan's face this time. "I'm so sorry, Woody."

He took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. Then, Woody drew her into a hug. "It doesn't matter now," he said. "Now we're okay."

Next, he kissed her, and it was even better than in her dreams. And this time, there was no Nigel to interrupt them.


End file.
